The Civilian Bride Is The Underworld Boss

Sera POV:

I felt like a piece of meat displayed on a butcher's block.

I was trapped in the water, yet a venomous, simmering hatred began to displace every ounce of fear in my veins.

I looked directly at Bianca, then at Cassius, and finally at the men crowding the door, my gaze resting on each of their faces in turn.

I delivered a lethal warning. I swore upon the old laws of blood vendetta that they would remember this night, and that they would repay every measure of my suffering in blood.

The men met this with loud, derisive laughter, and the ugly sound seemed to be absorbed by the damp tiles without an echo.

They scoffed at the notion of a bloodless civilian doing anything to bankrupt two of the ruling families on the Commission.

Bianca marched to the edge of the tub. She raised her hand. The crisp sound of flesh on flesh was swallowed by the bathroom's steam; half a second later, a prickling numbness slowly bloomed across my left cheek.

She dragged her sharp, manicured nails down my cheek as she pulled her hand away; warm blood welled up from the deep scratches, stinging as it met the cold air.

She leaned in close, her breath a warm vapor on my wet skin. She threatened that once the thirty-minute bet was up, she would have her personal soldiers force-feed me the roaches swimming in the water.

She promised to let the men have their fun with me right after I swallowed the last bug.

My eyes went dead and cold. I stared at her without blinking.

I prophesied in a flat, hollow voice that one day, she would be the one eating insects on her hands and knees, begging me for mercy.

Bianca shrieked. Without warning. She swung at the other side of my face with the back of her hand, and the pavé diamonds on her ring scraped across my cheekbone. Beads of blood began to well.

The motion of my body recoiling from the blow sent a wave of water over the side, washing away the last thick layer of foam, my only remaining shield.

A restless murmur went through the men as my bare legs and shoulders were fully exposed beneath the clear water.

They complained loudly about losing their bets on how long I would last. They threatened to drag me out and use me right now to get their money's worth.

Cassius produced a cigar from his jacket. He lit it, drew on it deeply, and stated through the smoke that he was not quite done playing with his canary yet.

Bianca pouted. She walked over to him and wound her arms tightly around his neck in a blatant display of ownership.

She pleaded with him to end his ties with the civilian this instant-she wanted me thrown out on the streets tonight.

Cassius looked at her, smiled, and agreed to her demand without a fraction of hesitation.

In that moment, I absorbed the ultimate lesson in underworld cruelty. The last ember of warmth in my chest went out, leaving only cold ash.

Cassius looked at me through a cloud of smoke. He claimed he once had real feelings for me, but my lack of mafia pedigree meant this was the end of the line.

He told me to curse my own low birth, shifting the blame to my bloodline instead of his betrayal.

An associate stepped into the bathroom. He crushed a cockroach under his heavy combat boot, then bent down, scooped up the mangled carcass, and threw it at my face.

The dead insect struck my cheek and fell into the water, its impact sending faint ripples across the surface.

I glared at every single man in the room, my eyes burning with a pure, murderous intent.

The men sneered back. They dismissed my intellect and my beauty as traits useful only for a high-end escort, insisting I was entirely unfit to survive the ruthless world of the Family. They stepped closer to the tub to finally take what they believed was theirs.